


By Any Other Name

by CraftyDemonite



Category: Adventure Time
Genre: Action/Adventure, Adventure, Friendship, Gen, Monsters, these two are going to be friends and i'm here to make it happen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-13
Updated: 2020-03-13
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:35:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23134027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CraftyDemonite/pseuds/CraftyDemonite
Summary: His accompaniment into these cramped and stuffy tunnels beneath the kingdom was based on necessity rather than desire. The least Finn could do was to refer to him by his proper title. Slight AU.
Relationships: Earl of Lemongrab & Finn the Human
Kudos: 20





	By Any Other Name

**Author's Note:**

> LG1 = Limoncello  
> LG2 = Meringue
> 
> AU where the original LGs don't die because that was ridiculous.

Earl Limoncello didn’t have any friends.

Perhaps some found it sad or pitiable or that it was for the best given his abrasive personality, but, in all honesty, Limoncello preferred it that way.

He didn’t like people as it was. They were noisy and needy and altogether rather stupid. Putting up with them was exhausting at the best of times and infuriating at the worst. It also left no reason to feel guilty if someone ended up in his stomach, regardless of whether they deserved it or not, because that was simply the risk one took when interacting with the earl.

This didn’t extend to Meringue or his mother, of course. The three of them were required to have some sort of affable relationship with each other because of something along the lines of blood being thicker than water. Family ties aside, the earl was quite happy to remain by his lonesome.

There was one other tiny, minute, not-even-worth-mentioning exception to the general rule of everyone not being fond of the earl and his name was Finn, champion of the Candy Kingdom.

From the very start, Finn and Limoncello’s relationship had been contentious. The boy was young and brash and Limoncello had little to no patience for his tomfoolery. So they had avoided each other’s company for years until one day, seemingly out of the blue and without Limoncello’s input, Finn decided that the two of them were buddies. Limoncello, for his part, couldn’t possibly fathom why. He had been as strict and merciless with Finn as he had with any other citizen, and yet the boy would blow off his lectures or mildly tease him about the punishments he doled out and then continue on as if they were good friends. It threw Limoncello wildly off kilter, unfamiliar as he was with not being listened to in some capacity.

Meringue, of course, found it delightfully amusing and would deviously encourage Finn’s behavior or provoke his brother in turn. He and Finn had been friends just as long as Finn and Limoncello had been enemies because Meringue was far more personable and darn near friends with everyone.

Mother Princess was just as happy to hear about their sudden camaraderie if it meant she could send the both of them on missions that she’d rather keep herself out of. Limoncello begrudgingly did as she wished; he never could say no to her. And sometimes Meringue would accompany them. Sometimes he wouldn’t.

This particular occasion was the latter.

\--------------------------------------

While the Candy Kingdom was a bustling metropolis above, there was a series of ancient tunnels and catacombs that spiraled across the entire breadth of the kingdom below. Their purpose had long since been forgotten; even the princess was mum on the reason for them. However, they were still an integral part of the kingdom’s infrastructure.

And not a soul had maintained them in decades, maybe centuries.

If it were a part of his own Earldom, Limoncello would have been furious once he realized such structures had been left to decay with no upkeep. It was a blessing that nothing lived within them.

“Sooooo, why are we going down here again?”

Limoncello resisted the urge to roll his eyes heavenward. “Inspection,” he explained, “These weight-bearing structures are older than even myself. Practically sinkholes waiting to happen.”

“Uh-huh,” Finn looked over the carefully stacked brick walls and concrete beams with a tilt of the head and the furrowing of his brow, “You know, this kinda seems like, I dunno, something PB would be better at taking care of,” Finn said, scratching at his chin.

“Of the two of us, I _am_ an architect.” He was also impatient to move forward. They had only just met up inside one of the entrances to the underground along the rim of the kingdom’s borders and there was little to take note of only a few yards past the doorway.

Realization lit up Finn’s eyes. “Oh yeah! You’re into that kinda stuff, aren’t you? You’re always busy working on it whenever I visit…”

“Only because you never think to call ahead. Against my wishes, by the way.”

Finn grinned as if he had made a joke and Limoncello considered that the better question was why Princess Bubblegum insisted that Finn accompany him. He supposed it was because, unlike Finn and his many adventures, Limoncello was inexperienced with these sorts of excursions into the relatively unknown. Finn was the muscle, so to speak, even if he didn’t look it given his somewhat small stature and his usual get up of a T-shirt and shorts. The only additional equipment he had brought along was a flashlight hung from his backpack. Limoncello was much more formal in comparison, with polished shoes, pressed slacks, and a button-up shirt. A decently sized deep brown leather trunk was strapped behind his right shoulder and he carried a flashlight as well, even though he could see in the dark.

“Alright!” Finn, seemingly just as eager to begin the trek, clapped his hands together, “Let’s go, bro!”

Limoncello bristled at his words, but forced himself to relax. Now was not the time.

\------------------------

The work was, to put it bluntly, boring. Or at least boring to someone like Finn, who was used to danger and mystery and excitement. Instead, he was treated to measurements and meticulous note taking and about a dozen pieces of incomprehensible equipment that Limoncello pulled from his trunk and boring brick walls and boring cobblestone floors and a whole lot of nothing else to fill his time. Attempting to figure out how the weird tripod machine worked only got him a scolding for messing with the dials and throwing off the numbers.

“What is that thing anyways?” Finn asked from his seat along the wall where Limoncello reasoned he couldn’t cause much trouble outside of flicking his flashlight off and on. Most of the light bulbs in the tunnels had burned out long ago.

“A theodolite,” the earl explained, making careful adjustments to the machine, “It’s a mounted telescope modified to allow me to relate multiple points on an axis to determine the-” He noticed that Finn’s eyes were glazing over, “It lets me know if the walls and floors are either straight or buckling. And would you _please_ stop messing with your light?”

“Oh, okay,” Finn turned his light back on, “And if the walls aren’t straight?”

Limoncello grimaced, preferring not think about it. “Then we will leave in a hurry.” 

“Cool, cool, cool. Well, you do you, dude.”

Again, Limoncello had to force himself to calm down. _Not the time._

\------------------------------

Repairs would have to be undertaken on certain parts of the snaking passageways, that much was certain. Limoncello wasn’t really surprised by such findings. A few hundred years of neglect and the ever expanding city above was sure to put a strain on almost any wall or column. There were cracks in the concrete that needed to be patched and bricks that had begun to crumble and a few sections of entire walls had collapsed inward, spilling dirt and rock into the tunnel and effectively preventing passage. He idly wondered how nothing above had tumbled inwards along with the walls, but maybe it was only sagging floors and odd dips in the walkways that the citizens noticed.

Finn was helping out as much as one could expect, pointing out fissures and other imperfections for Limoncello to take note of.

“Hey, over here, over here!”

“What is it?” Limoncello asked, remaining focused on his writing.

“Doesn’t this look like… Bite marks?”

He looked up at that. Finn was crouching by a column, touching grooves that were dug lengthwise into its corners. Water damage, maybe? But if Limoncello tilted his head and squinted, he supposed it _did_ look like teeth impressions. But that was absurd. Anything that could bite into solid concrete would have to be massive…

He must have looked overly concerned, because Finn bounced back up onto his feet.

“Don’t worry!” Finn assured him, fingering the hilt of his sword, “I’ll protect us!”

“Comforting.” Perhaps his tone was a bit harsh, but really, he had brought his own blade as well. It was not as if he was completely helpless in defending himself.

Finn flopped his hands to his sides, giving him a look. “Dude…”

“It is not _‘dude’_ ,” Limoncello snapped, for he was fed up with being called “dude” or “bro” or _“boyee”_ and had lectured Finn on this matter far too many times already, “It is _‘earl’_ or _‘sir’_ , whichever you can manage to remember for once!”

Finn heaved a sigh and made a face like _he_ was being ridiculous.

“It’s disrespectful! Unacceptable! And furthermore-” Limoncello’s voice died in his throat as he abruptly straightened up, eyes darting to one of the other passageways.

Finn was confused by his sudden alarm. “Yo, what-?”

Limoncello shushed him sharply, concentrating fiercely. Finn couldn’t see anything down the inky black tunnel and even when he shined his flashlight into the passage there were only cobblestone floors and crumbling brick walls. Perhaps the earl had heard a rock falling loose? But Limoncello swore under his breath, flicking his light off and reaching over to turn off Finn’s flashlight as well, plunging them into darkness. Finn was pulled by his arm into another tunnel and he wanted to ask what Limoncello had heard or seen, but he decided it was better to stay quiet. For a short while, there was only the sound of their breathing before a faint scuffling noise could be heard in the distance. It was like someone was kicking a cardboard box down the tunnel, followed by odd grunts and snorts as whatever it was drew closer.

Finn’s eyes were somewhat adjusted to the dark, but he couldn’t make out much until the opposing wall was blotted out by something large and… Furry? Even Limoncello, who had good night vision, couldn’t make sense of it. There were _things_ coming off of its face, or what he assumed was a face. Were they feelers? Tentacles? It snuffled and sniffed and snorted for a long while in the place the pair had been standing moments ago. Slowly, it continued on down the passage.

The snuffling and scrabbling faded into the distance. Finn clicked his flashlight back on, temporarily blinding them both. “Dude, what _was_ that?”

Limoncello was too distracted by the creature to correct Finn on his title. “I… Do not know…”

“Maybe that’s what’s been chewing on the walls!”

“Most likely.” This would have to be reported to the princess at once. Beasts destroying the foundations would have to be dealt with swiftly, especially ones of such a size that even Limoncello was troubled by them.

“We should probably go take care of it,” Finn said, at once excited and, with his hands on his hips, determinedly surveying the route the creature took.

“Let us not,” Limoncello answered dismissively, “Better that we let the princess know. Besides,” He adjusted the weight of the trunk on his back, “I was sent to see to the underground structures, not play at pest control.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Finn looked disappointed, “Jake probably wouldn’t want to miss out on some good old fashioned butt kicking.”

Knowing Princess Bubblegum, she was sure to be sending Finn back down to deal with the problem. He could have his fun then.

“Well, after _that_ , best for the two of us to return above ground.”

“Yup! Yup,” Finn stretched until his shoulders cracked, “It’s kinda stuffy down here anyways.”

Finn was fairly certain he remembered the way back, even without the earl’s guidance, and began to head through the passage they had been in before they had been interrupted. If Limoncello was so worried, then they would just have to be more careful on the way out.

 _"Apupup!”_ Limoncello caught the boy by the scruff of his shirt and lifted him up like a wayward kitten, “We are _not_ going back the way we came with that-that _thing_ lurking about.”

“How else are we gonna get outta here?” Finn asked, still dangling from Limoncello’s grip.

The earl sighed through his nose. Finn was correct that the closest exit would mean retracing their steps, but Limoncello was not about to go waltzing into the jaws of some beast. He had seen the maps of the underground, old and unrevised as they were. The paths were tortuous, but with his eidetic memory and a little luck, they could make it out in a few hours time.

“We have one other choice,” he said, dropping Finn the few feet to the ground and ignoring his yelp of surprise, “We’re going to have to go through the middle and come out one of the other sides.”

Finn grumbled before clambering to his feet and brushing the dirt off his backside. “So, the long way then?”

“You could call it that.”

\---------------------

He wasn’t certain whether to call it the “long way” because of the distance or the travel time or because Finn’s obvious agitation and restlessness following the encounter with the beast was making it feel that way. Limoncello led the way but Finn scurried this way and that to pick up an interesting rock or poke at a bug scuttling along the wall. The brick walls and stone floor fell away to dirt and wooden beams that looked like they had seen better days. A plethora of rudimentary structures filled to brimming with more and more cobwebs the further towards the center of the kingdom they got.

“What if there’s, like, a reaaaally big spider down here too?”

Limoncello paused in his note taking of the abysmal conditions of the main support beams and gave a displeased whine. “Why must you say these things out loud?”

A grin broke out across Finn’s face. “You scared of spiders, bro?”

 _“Earl,”_ Limoncello turned to look down at him, annoyed, “And I am not _frightened_. Unlike you, I prefer not to egg on the reaper.” Perhaps he really should have let the boy run off and play hero earlier. It might have been less bothersome.

There was a faint light ahead and the tunnel opened up into a wide antechamber. The pillars along the walls were made of oak and the room was dimly lit by the few light bulbs that had not yet burned out. Finn dashed out into the middle of the chamber and stretched his arms wide, grateful to get out of the cramped and confined passageways.

“One of the main chambers, I think,” Limoncello said, joining the boy in the center of the room.

Finn looked up at him. “One of them?”

“Yes,” he unclipped his trunk and knelt to set it on the ground, “According to the maps the princess showed me, there are about five others like it spaced equidistant from each other around the middle of the kingdom,” he had pulled the theodolite from its place and was busy unfolding its legs, “Initially, I had assumed they were bunkers, but more likely they were made to facilitate the construction of these passages,” adjustments were made to the scope and he noted how the walls surrounding the four openings into the space were still relatively straight and intact. Impressive. “But I do not know for certain.”

Finn took a moment to consider this from his seat next to Limoncello and looked up towards the ceiling to the oak rafters. “It feels like we’re runnin’ around inside a big anthill. What do you think all this was made for?”

“I cannot guess. And princess either does not know or does not want to tell me.”

“Yeah,” Finn bobbed his head in agreement, “But what do you _think?”_

He was being pushy. Limoncello pressed a hand to his mouth in thought, idly spinning his pencil in his hand. “If it were me, they would be escape tunnels. In case of the _worst thing_ happening.”

Finn tilted his head back and groaned his disapproval. “Uuughh, that’s too _practical.”_

Limoncello gave him a glare in turn. “And if you built a complex system of tunnels beneath your home, what would be their purpose?”

“Sneak attacks!” Finn exclaimed excitedly, “You could make a bunch of openings up top so you could pop outta the ground behind someone! Or you could lure them into a trap!”

Well, at least that idea had _some_ merit. “Oddly, that sounds like something princess would do.”

 _"Maybe she did,”_ Finn said low, setting his light below his chin to make himself look eerie, “To _us!”_

“Once again! Reaper. Egging. Stop it. _Please.”_

Finn chuckled, but put his light away. “I really didn’t think you were going to be such a scaredy cat. I mean, we were fine when we had to go to that weird crystal forest to get that rock thing.”

“It was an orchid geode and that was different,” Limoncello corrected him, “And this isn’t being _scared,_ this is being _prudent_. Especially since you and I both know there’s something else down here with us!”

The boy sputtered and dismissively waved a hand. “We haven’t seen that thing in ages! It probably got lost or something.”

They may as well have signaled their own doom in big neon lights over a vast skyline because that was exactly when the unknown beast decided to burst through an adjacent wall and into the antechamber. It’s giant, spade-like claws dug through the dirt effortlessly as it heaved its bulk into the open space. Finn yelped in surprise while Limoncello was instantly on his feet. He swept the legs of his theodolite out from under it, grabbing it as it fell, and chucking it directly at the intruder. It smashed into what Limoncello could only imagine was its face, shattering the scope into several pieces. The creature shrieked, shaking itself and pawing at its snout.

“Nice one!” Finn congratulated, now on his feet as well.

“Ah.” Realization swept over Limoncello. He hadn’t meant to break his equipment. “Whoops.”

The monster gave another squeal, swinging its head and trying to locate its attackers. Even on all fours, it towered over them, huge with ruddy fur and pink tentacles surrounding it nostrils. It looked like a big mole. With an octopus for a face.

Gross.

“Finn-”

The mole made a high, keening sound and lurched in Limoncello’s direction, forcing him to back up against the wall. The protrusions surrounding its large nostrils reached out almost curiously, probing the trunk he had abandoned on the floor.

“It doesn’t have any eyes!” Finn said loudly and gave a whoop as the rodent’s head twisted back towards him, clacking its teeth.

No sight, but it could hear them to some degree. Limoncello used the distraction that was Finn’s antics to grab and retrieve his trunk, lamenting the loss of his theodolite.

Finn managed to evade the mole’s claws and teeth and tentacles and scooted along the wall to his side. Fortunately for them, the chamber was large enough for all three of them to have a bit of space to maneuver, but staying meant it was only a matter of time before the oversized rodent sniffed them out.

“Can’t you hit it with a sound blast? Knock it out?” Finn asked quietly.

“I could try, but the shockwaves would bring the ceiling down on top of us,” Limoncello said as softly as he could.

“Like in a ‘we would still be alive’ kinda way? Or a ‘squished’ kinda way?”

“Squished. Definitely squished.”

Finn let out his breath in a huff. At least the mole still hadn’t figured out where the two of them had gone.

“If we fight it, it’s _definitely_ gonna know we’re here,” Finn thought out loud, “If we run, it’s gonna hear us…”

Run. Now there was an idea.

“When you think about it,” Limoncello mused, “I only really need to outrun _you_.”

Finn threw him an offended look. “You wouldn’t _dare.”_

A smirk pulled at the corners of his mouth. “Wouldn’t I?”

The boy frowned at him for another moment before shaking his head. “Okay, dumb question. You would.”

The mole was now working at a loose rock, scratching and scraping.

“Can I at least get a hint?” Finn whispered.

“What?”

“It’s not very fair that _you_ know the way out and I don’t.”

“Hmm,” the earl nodded, “I suppose I could level the playing field.”

A snort and the mole tossed its head upward, sniffing at the air. Slowly and carefully, the pair settled into crouch, ready to bolt at the first sign of aggression.

“Listen _very_ closely,” Limoncello said low through gritted teeth, “From here, take the second left, follow that to the fourth right, take three more rights, and go left at the junction-”

“Got it! _Readysetgo!!”_ Finn shouted, turned tail, and dashed off down the tunnel.

“What-no! You _do not_ got it!!” Limoncello hollered after him as he swung his trunk onto his shoulder and took off as well.

The rodent lurched in their direction, making a squealing, gurgling sort of screech and clumping after them. Limoncello may have had longer legs and knew where he was going, but Finn had far more stamina and endurance. He sprinted down the tunnels with Limoncello following behind and the mole snuffling and skittering in close pursuit. Second left! Fourth right! Right! Right! …Left? Maybe?

Finn stumbled to a stop in the middle of a five-way intersection, fumbling to figure out if there were two forwards and three lefts out or three forwards and two lefts out. Limoncello soon caught up to him, skidding and yanking him by the strap of his backpack out of the way of the sudden maw and teeth of the mole bearing down on him and into what Finn had deemed the back right tunnel. There was a loud clack of teeth and a furry body crashing into the dirt walls separating the tunnels.

Having practically been thrown forward, Finn skipped and skidded and nearly tumbled head over feet before catching himself and falling back into running. The two were nearly evenly paced now, driven by pure adrenaline, and the snorting, scuffling sounds of the monster fell into the distance behind them.

Another turn into a spiraling passage and Finn snorted and then laughed.

“What’s… Funny?” Limoncello asked between gasps.

“I almost-!” Finn only laughed harder, pumping his legs faster and pulling ahead, “I almost… Died!!”

He laughed again, sharp and joyful, and Limoncello still didn’t understand why.

Maybe he didn’t have to understand.

Flying as fast as they could from the danger nipping at their heels was, in its own way, exhilarating. It was a fundamental law of nature after all. An object in motion stays in motion.

So they ran. A faint rumbling could still be heard over their footfalls and their gasps for air. The monster was still pursuing them. There was no longer a need for directions; it was largely a straight shot from here to the closest exit into the edge of the central plaza. At least until they came to a three-way junction and Finn didn’t hesitate before barreling down the left tunnel.

 _“Finn, no!”_ Limoncello course-corrected so quickly that he slid to a stop on one knee, catching himself with his hands and scrambling back to his feet to follow Finn down the opposite chamber, _“Wrong way! That’s a-”_ He skidded to a halt behind the boy, coming to a sheer, purposeful wall of crumbling stone.

“Dead end.”

The name became far too apt as one of the walls behind them burst open with a low rumble. Huge shovel-like claws came first, pushing aside piles of dirt and large rocks. The tentacles surrounding its nostrils twitched as it sniffed and snorted forward. Its bulk nearly filled the entire entryway of the tunnel.

There was nowhere to run. 

Finn drew his sword as he backed up a few paces, Limoncello following suit, dropping his trunk, and brandishing his own weapon. The glow from their flashlights bounced off their blades and scattered pools of light onto the tunnel walls. Limoncello’s sound sword hummed almost imperceptibly, but at a pitch that made the rodent cry out and stagger closer. Even if they somehow killed it or knocked it out cold, that would still leave them trapped between a stone wall and a massive furry body.

Speaking of stone, the buzz from the sound sword was rattling the small pebbles at his feet and made Finn think of rocks and dirt and wood…

And it made him think of leveling the playing field.

“Limoncello!” 

“What?” The earl’s chest was heaving as he tried to catch his breath

“I know a way outta here! We’re just gonna have to take a shortcut!”

Limoncello jerked his head towards the boy. _“What?!”_

“Shockwaves, remember?” Finn pointed his sword upwards toward a small series of beams that looked half-rotted and barely holding together under the weight of the earth above. “We’re going out the top!!”

Limoncello gave him a look like he had just sprouted two heads. _“You cannot be serious.”_

“Just wait for my mark!” He raised a hand to signal.

“Oh sweet zest, you _are_ serious!”

The mole lumbered closer, its tentacles reaching out towards them like it knew where the pair was even without eyes. Finn was calm, focused, even as Limoncello shifted his weight nervously, eyes darting between his target and the hungry beast before him. They could practically feel its breath on them.

 _"Now!”_ Finn swung his hand downwards.

With a growled _“This is stupid!!”,_ Limoncello swung his blade in an arc towards the ceiling, unleashing a crescent-shaped pulse of sound that tore through the fragile wood with a sharp crack. The creature reared back in surprise with a screech. Large pieces of broken wood rained down on its head, and the thing scrabbled to get away as several tons of dirt poured in. It gave one final, gurgling cry before an immense stone crushed the rodent under its weight.

\--------------------------------------------

Sunlight spilled into the ruined tunnel, the air hazy with dust. Limoncello coughed and couldn’t breathe from all debris the collapsed shaft had kicked up. The ground above looked like a lava cake that had been sliced into, but instead of hot fudge spilling out it was cracked boards and dirt and large pieces of orange and magenta rubble from what must have once been a building.

He was surprised he was still alive, certain as he had been that using his sound sword would have had them all painfully crushed to death. Instead, he had only gotten banged up a little from the falling debris and knocked off his feet, but he was still in one piece.

He drew an arm over his eyes, wanting nothing more than to lay here and have a moment to just breathe.

“Hey,” he shifted his arm to see Finn leaning over him, also looking worse for wear. His bear hat was gray instead of white and there was a large smudge of dirt across his cheek. “You alright?”

“Fine,” he rasped, and there was a pang of something like concern in his chest, “Yourself?”

“I’m okay, I think,” Finn croaked and wiped his nose on his sleeve.

“Good. That’s good.”

The princess was most definitely going to have some questions for them. Limoncello wasn’t looking forward to that. Maybe he could just stay here forever and not be bothered.

His brother probably would not approve, though.

\------------------------

“You _dinguses!!_ ” Princess Bubblegum slammed her hands onto her desk. Finn and Limoncello couldn’t help but wince. They had both been called to the princess’ study following the ‘incident’ to explain themselves. Finn, still covered in grime, was sitting slouched in a chair and looking like he wanted to be anywhere else. Limoncello, standing to the boy’s left, was as stoic as he could be and trying to ignore how stiff his clothes were from the ground in dirt and how scuffed his shoes were. Being that he was technically the lead for this little expedition, he bore the brunt of the responsibility.

“In our defense,” Limoncello started, sounding hoarse from all the dust he inhaled and clearing his throat to try and lend a bit more strength to his voice, “The catacombs _were_ structurally compromised before-”

_"Before you thought a hole in the ground was better?!”_

She made a broad, angry gesture towards the windows. Not only had they managed to create a sizable crater in the middle of the city, but Bubblegum’s study perfectly overlooked it. Finn sunk a little lower in his seat (at this rate he was going to slide onto the floor) and Limoncello closed his mouth over the words he wanted to say and stubbornly kept his gaze forward.

“There _was_ a monster down there…” Finn muttered miserably.

"A monster?” Bubblegum echoed, sounding incredulous.

'Big,” Limoncello spread his arms for emphasis, “Claws. Had a weird face. Probably would have eaten us.” He adjusted his smudged glasses.

The princess took a deep breath, held it, and sat back down. She kneaded her temples as she heaved a great sigh. “Can I at least expect some blueprints in a few days in order to fix this mess?”

“Yes, princess.” Limoncello supposed that was fair enough. It wouldn’t take him long to draw up some plans anyways.

“Alright then,” she propped her chin on one hand, wearily looking them over, “I _am_ glad you two are okay, you know.”

She certainly had a funny way of showing it. Nevertheless, they were told to take it easy for a few days and then dismissed from her presence.

\-----------------------------------------------

Limoncello tapped out a steady rhythm with his pencil, looking over the measurements, calculations, and estimated cost of the repairs. He had finished the blueprints rather quickly and sent them off, only for Finn to show up on his doorstep a few days later with revised initial measurements for the damages and a small note from Princess Bubblegum asking to recalculate everything, pretty please, and small doodle of a smiley face underneath.

This was the third time. She must have gotten those idiot banana guards to do the work and they used the wrong units or measured the wrong things.

He scribbled out the smiley face. Take _that._

“You can inform the princess I’m not doing this again,” he told Finn without looking up. The boy was resting his head on the table across from him and had stretched his arms out in front of him as far as possible. He was looking better than when Limoncello last saw him, even if there were several band-aids dotting his knees and another patch across his cheek. Perhaps he was tired. Limoncello could sympathize; his joints were rather achy as well.

“And you can also tell her that I am _done_ with these little adventure assignments for awhile.”

There was a chorus of disappointed whines from Finn and, surprisingly, Meringue (though he had seemed jealous that he’d missed out on all the excitement).

Finn rolled his head to the side just enough to look up at him. “No more hanging out?”

The corner of his mouth twitched. “You do realize we can spend time together _without_ going to some glob-forsaken fortress and nearly getting ourselves killed?”

“Yeah, but that’s not as fun!”

“I think you and I have very different definitions of ‘fun’.”

“Yeah right!” Finn laughed and playfully swatted at him, “You can’t tell me you didn’t have a good time! You’re the one who wanted to play ‘monster tag’, bro!”

The smile suddenly vanished from the boy’s face and he pushed himself up onto his elbows. “Sorry, I meant ‘earl’, sorry…”

But Limoncello just waved a hand dismissively. “Finn, please. Call me ‘Cello’. If you cannot refer to me by my title, then please use my nickname.

Finn pursed his lips and screwed his face up in confusion. “ _You_ have a nickname? Never thought you’d be the type!”

“It is not as if I prefer it.” That was true. His nickname was personal and private and not necessarily something he wanted to hear from anyone other than his brother. But Finn was well-meaning, if a little dense at times, and Limoncello understood that concessions had to be made.

“But I think it is alright. I mean,” he rested his cheek on the knuckles of his free hand, his eyes softening ever so slightly, “We are friends, are we not?”

\--------------------------------------------

Fin.


End file.
